A pillow and a Shirt
by Murasaki no Ningyo
Summary: Watanuki and Doumeki in a presence of a pillow...and a shirt . Yeah I know summary sucks. DouWata. oneshot as of the moment . Random stuff.


**Author's Note: **konichiwa minna! I'm back with my(and yours too I presume) favorite couple. I got some interesting and inspiring reviews from my previous work so I tried making another one. But its not as good as the first oneT_T. (I think) please don't kill me.

and oh, a big big big THANK YOU to SEi-chan^ ^ she beta-ed this (if that's how you call it XD) domo arigato SEi-chan! (a.k.a. twelf bell)

timeline is not definite, but since I hate the part where Yuuko disappeared, this is set before that inevitability happened.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters. (not even the pillow) but the shirt is mine ^ ^

* * *

It was soft. Warm. Comfortable. Safe.

The arms of that heavenly being wrapped so securely around the middle is more than welcome, after lying there idle for hours, alone and cold and oh so empty, it is a very nice change to have someone hold you so securely. It was more than what this pathetic existence can hope for.

A dark head nuzzled. A little scuffle as the owner of that head struggled a little to find a comfortable position without having to remove his spectacles. Cheeks so soft and warm and smooth, the pale complexion of the boy nuzzling is very nice, the contours of that handsome face pressed so tightly one can feel every soft curve from his nose to his jaw. The rest of that lithe body curled so firmly one can distinguish every dip in his body. From small chest down to the firm hips and lean agile legs then back up again to the soft almost-feminine arms.

It was such a heaven to be a pillow on Yuuko's couch.

Until.

"Oi."

The peaceful tranquility of his little sanctuary had to be destroyed by one annoying jerk.

"What do you want, you ape? Can't you see that I'm having a peaceful nap here?"

"You're awake."

"You woke me up!"

"I didn't."

Watanuki stared disbelievingly at the big annoying jerk called "Doumeki". Why was the jerk here? It was two in the effing afternoon, a time when almost all the work at Yuuko's ridiculously large turn-of-the-dimension old Japanese-style-manor-with-a-touch-of-Victorian-ambiance place was nearly finished with just a little sweeping later in the afternoon and dinner. Of course, no one would mention the absurdly depressing dust dimension, a.k.a. "the storage room"; he had just labored for a week there last month, it can't possibly be full of dust now can it? (Truth is, he doesn't want to know). That leaves our dear Watanuki to a peaceful free time that particular afternoon and he so faithfully dedicated it to sleep.

Sleep that was murdered by a hakama-dressed, tall, broad-shouldered, lean-bodied, archer.

"I'm hungry."

Blue-and-gold eyes flashed lightning as a mouth gaped in horrified incredulity at what the archer said.

"Wh-what did you just say?"

"I'm hungry."

The answer came in a trademark monotone and almost sleepy look. Had it not been for the archer's blazing and very alive amber gaze, one would be lulled to think that he was just really very very very bored.

"Y-you—!"

The rest of the sentence was dimmed as the archer put a very useful pinky in his ear. He needed not have to hear what the younger boy had to say (or should we say, "shout"): he had already memorized every condescending insult the boy had to state.

"You just had lunch! - Lunch was just a couple of hours ago! Why the heck are you hungry? Had I not fed your pathetic stomach enough? Arrrggghhh! You're really a bottomless pit!"

Watanuki's face had the color of a pale tomato, shouting himself hoarse for a few minutes and whirling his arms in large wheels in the air (how he had managed to do that while slumped half-lying on the couch is a mystery to anyone looking). Hitsuzen must be some kind of a joke, having him be stuck with a man with an abyss for a stomach. He had no idea where the archer put all the carbs(carbohydrates) and cals(calories) he inhales on a daily basis (thanks to Watanuki-sama's splendid cooking); he had not seen a layer of flab at the archer's belly nor superfluous adipose at the man's biceps. No, he had not seen or felt any unnecessary fat anywhere on his self-proclaimed protector. Surely, baby-sitting him everyday is not that challenging right?

Wait.

Did he just call the stomach that looks like a human his protector? No, he did not, nor did he claim that he had seen and felt every inch of the archer's body to know that the man was as firm as an intimate apparel's model. He did not (and we will not contest that).

But that is beside the point. The point is, he had just fed the annoying talking (more like hn-ing) and walking digestive system so it had no right to ask for more.

"I want dessert."

Bi-colored eyes bulged as big as the crystal balls decorating the ceiling. But before he could utter his usual string of insults, the annoying jerk added more irritating words.

"And my sweater had a tear." Doumeki held his horribly orange sweater up for the seer to see. He fingered a relatively small tear near the sweater's armpit to emphasize the point. Of course, if his favorite sweater had a tear, then it would be the end of the world.

"I'm not your fucking wife! Can't you sew it on your own, you useless pile of idle limbs!"

"Yes. But you're better at it."

"The hell do I care!"

"I won't be able to wear it."

"I don't care!"

"It's cold."

" Like I said, I don't care! What part of that sentence did you not understand, you idiot!"

"If you won't sew it then you'll have to keep me warm."

Oh that annoying smirk just made its appearance. And it's really good in its job: annoying Watanuki a hundred-fold.

"YOU-(insert insults here)! Must I tend to your every need?"

A predatory glance and a very amused smirk.

"Yes. _Every _need."

Whoosh!

The poor pillow only had a fourth of a second to realize that it was heading dead-on towards the archer's face. Of course, the archer knows better. He evades the thrown pillow in a nick of time and catches it before it hits the ground. Yuuko would not be pleased to know if one of her special pillows had touched the ground. The lady might give a ridiculous price for it. Aside from that, Watanuki would be forced to wash it and then Watanuki would blame him for it, even if the one who threw it was the seer himself. Sometimes, his reflexes could be put to very good use (aside from saving Watanuki every time).

"Get out, you pervert!"

A blush is already crawling up the seer's face even as he says those words. And the archer knew enough to annoy the seer further. It has become his favorite past-time - well, actually second only to his favorite. (The number one is seeing the energized man flustered beneath him moa—beep, later, we will get to that).

Doumeki advances, a couple of steps towards the seer at the couch.

"Stop! Don't come any closer you uncouth being! You're evading my private sphere!"

"I'm two feet away."

"My private sphere is 3 meters in radius! Get out of my circle!"

"But I'm hungry."

"I don't have food here!"

"Make some."

"I don't want to! I don't take orders from you!"

"Give me something else then."

"What? Are you kidding me? Do I look like I could produce food from thin air for you? I doubt Yuuko-san could even do that!"

"I think she can."

"Arrrgggghhhh! Step back! Don't come any closer!"

"I told you. I'm hungry."

"What? Do I look like food to you?"

Gulp.

Dear Watanuki, when will you ever learn to be extra careful of your words?

Doumeki didn't answer verbally, but the way he looked, the way he placed his hand at either side of the seer's face, the way he loomed above the near-panicking seer, was a good enough answer to the not-so-carefully-blurted query.

But of course, Doumeki would not be able to keep himself from flustering the boy. He leaned closer, stopping near his prey's ears and whispered:

"Yes, but you're overly-dressed."

All the blood circulating the seer's body changed direction to rush up to his face. It was alluring to look at. According to one archer's opinion.

"Waaaahhhh! Get off me you big pervert!"

Whirling his arms in a panicky motion, Watanuki tried to discouraged the big lump of muscle from leaning even further.

Then out of nowhere a poorly wrapped package was shoved onto the seer's face.

"Wh-what the heck is this?"

"Happy birthday."

The blush deepened, whether out of embarrassment, endearment or anger is all up to our entertaining seer.

"My birthday was months ago, idiot! How could you forget when it's in my name!"

"I didn't forget."

"Then what the heck is this?"

"A gift."

"A poorly presented gift!"

"A gift nonetheless."

"Why are you giving me this anyway?"

Another smirk. The archer was practically straddling the seer but it seems the other was too busy contemplating over the gift to notice their highly suggestive position.

"It's for your birthday last last year."

"What? Are you an idiot? We didn't even know each other yet!"

"Hn."

_Wait, is the idiot planning to give me a gift for all the birthdays he missed?_

Watanuki's eyes widened at the thought.

"A-are you going to give me a gift for all m-my birthdays?"

"Yes."

Amber eyes danced with amused glee at the look of the flustered teen beneath him. Large hands cupped the pretty face slowly, almost hesitantly while its owner slowly closed the distance between their faces.

Watanuki froze as those large hands held his face. He could not tear his eyes away from the handsome face of his protector-slash-lover. Damn, he's supposed to be angry, indignant, and mad. But those amber eyes staring through his soul made him lose his train of thought.

As those lips descended on his, he abandoned the will to think and just allowed himself to dance in the tune of their heartbeats.

* * *

It was too hot for comfort. And it was wet. Sticky wet.

Being a pillow is good but being used as support while doing _that_ is certainly not that nice. And it's also not nice to be grabbed so rudely and smacked into a hard body.

"What is the meaning of this? You expect me to wear that? Arrggghhh! I'll kill you!"

The great Watanuki-sama is fuming in anger again. Wonder where he got the strength to flail and shout after vigorous activities.

"What's wrong with it? It's black and semi-fit. It'll look good on you."

A bored drawl. The owner sounded tired, a stark opposite to the infinite supply of energy of the other man chewing him out. Well, he can't be blamed: he did most of the work.

"You tell me what's wrong with it! Don't you know how to read?"

"I do."

"Then why did you get me this?"

The younger male held up a medium-sized black shirt with a big print of a cake with lit candles in it. Written above the cake were the words "It's my birthday!" in large bubble letters and below the cake in the same large fonts was the phrase "BLOW ME".

"I don't see anything wrong with it."

It would have gotten through if the bastard's smirk didn't betray his stoic face.

"ARRRGGGHHH!"

More flailings occurred as the other teen smacked him repeatedly with the abused pillow.

Poor pillow.

* * *

**A/N: **I am not satisfied with this work so maybe I'd make the lime part later and post it in a different fic. will you like that?

I would have loved more fluff but I'm saving them for other pairings... I can't decideT_T

soooo... if you have anything to say to this poor writer, just click the review button below. make or break me. -.-

anyway... have a junjou day minna!

[listening to 19sai]


End file.
